


I saw the stork retreat, zigzagging

by okaystop



Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Kid Fic, LA Era (Crooked Media RPF), M/M, Magical Realism, Or is it accidental?, The Stork Arrives, baby in a basket
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2019-11-19 07:17:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18132641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okaystop/pseuds/okaystop
Summary: "Are you sure you didn't mix up your delivery?" Lovett addressed the stork now. In response, the bird ruffled its feathers and arched up on its thin legs. It gave a squawk and took off. Without the baby in the basket.





	I saw the stork retreat, zigzagging

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cinderlily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderlily/gifts).



> cinderlily, I immediately had the image that this story opens with when I read your prompt for kidfic and the words "I will love on some magical realism omg" so I hope you enjoy it. It was very, very fun to write and a bit outside of my norm. 
> 
> An aside: I wrote this while traveling, handwritten in a notebook, and then I had to go and type it all up once I returned. Whew.
> 
> Per the usual, please keep this secret, keep it safe. 
> 
> Title from "The Stork" by Hannah Lowe, which doesn't really fit as a whole but I like the image. ([Read the poem](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/144359/the-stork-59bc021f7cc93).)

The baby showed up on a Saturday morning.

Lovett woke up to Pundit frantically barking, running in circles on the bed until he got up to let her out. He didn't think anything was amiss until he opened the door to the backyard and saw the stork.

"Well, shit," he said, not entirely addressing the stork, which looked at him sideways, the eye facing him sharp and, probably, judging. 

Lovett looked down and found the baby. Not a baby, really, at least not a newborn, maybe a year old, or more, or less. He didn't know anything about babies.

"Are you sure you didn't mix up your delivery?" Lovett addressed the stork now. In response, the bird ruffled its feathers and arched up on its thin legs. It gave a squawk and took off, zigzagging into the dawn sky. Without the baby in the basket.

"Shit, shit, shit." 

Pundit pawed at the basket. The baby - toddler? - giggled and pushed a hand out at the pup, who let it (he? she? Lovett didn't want to look, not really) touch her briefly, until the little fat fingers caught in her curls and Pundit growled and pranced away. The baby's face screwed up in that way babies get before they cry, and Lovett tried not to panic.

"All right, all right. It's okay. Just don't - don't pull on Pundit's curls, okay?" There was nothing wrong with talking to it like it was an adult, right? Like it could understand him?

The baby's mouth stopped trembling, but its dark eyes were big and wet. "Papa," it said.

Lovett fell in love.

 

Lovett answered the door with the baby on his hip, her (it was a girl!) cheek pressed into the crook of his neck. "Oh, thank god," he breathed out. "Here. Take her. I need a shower and I don't know what I'm supposed to do with a kid while I'm in there. Is there some rule about that? Is that why people do the whole two-parent thing?" 

He pushed the baby into Jon's arms before he could protest and started to talk away, already stripping off his shirt. "Don't touch that. She threw up on it twice already." 

Then he was gone, the bathroom door closed, and Jon was left alone with a baby. "Uh … Lovett? What - ?" But of course Lovett didn't answer. The shower was already running.

Jon sat on the couch with the baby at arm's length, facing him. "Uh, hello. I'm - Jon." The baby giggled and pressed her chubby hands to his cheeks. She smiled with bubbles gurgling out of the side of her mouth. Jon smiled too. He spotted the basket near the back door, then the note discarded just on the other side of the couch. He steadied the baby with one arm and reached for the note with the other.

 _Hello, my name is Lilith - congratulations!_ it began. Jon let out a breath and didn't scan through the rest, not wanting to push himself any more into Lovett's privacy.

It had been silly to think Lovett was just babysitting, though it had been what occurred to him when the door opened. But this? Was stranger. Not that Lovett wouldn't make a great dad - the image of him with the baby at his hip when he opened the door flashed back in Jon's mind, followed by a series of others. Lovett tugging pigtails into Lilith's dark hair, twirling her around, reading to her, teaching her how to play video games.

Jon felt his heart stutter. 

It was just, as backwards as it was, the stork didn't deliver to single parents. It wasn't _impossible._ Just not very usual, probable. Not that Lovett was alone in this. He had Jon, and Tommy and Hanna, and the entire Crooked Media family too. 

There was just still something a little odd about it, tickling the back of Jon's neck. No, he almost laughed, that was Lilith's breath on his neck, as she crawled up against his side, between him and the couch cushion, and quickly fell asleep. It was soothing, and very warm, having a baby pushed against him, trusting him so completely like this. 

That was how Lovett found them a few minutes later. "I tried to be quick, sorry," he was saying, stopping and blinking at them when Jon pressed a finger to his lips and gestured that she was sleeping. A strange expression twisted onto Lovett's face, but he shook it away. "Just - once I got in there, I had to stand there for a while. Under the water. It was, like, my first moment alone since she showed up."

"She's beautiful, Lovett," Jon said, just the right amount of awe in his tone.

"Thanks? I mean, I didn't do anything. She just - showed up."

"She's still yours."

There was that strange expression again, fading just as quickly. "They don't come with an instruction manual, you know. A welcome to parenthood kit, sure, diapers, bottle pacifier, a few changes of clothes, but no instruction manual." He toed the basket gently.

Jon laughed, holding back so as not to wake Lilith. "Bet there's one online somewhere. Or if not, you should write one." 

Lovett rolled his eyes. He rubbed a towel across the back of his neck, shaking some water out of his curls. "Yeah, well."

Jon looked at him for a long moment. "How are you doing with this?"

Lovett sank down on the other end of the couch, curling into himself. "It's been only about eight hours and I want to sleep for days. How did you get her to sleep? I've been trying."

Jon turned his head, just a little, and his nose nudged Lilith's soft cheek. "She just fell asleep," he said, an apology in his tone. 

"God you look good like that. Jon Favreau with a baby in his arms. Of course you do. Disgusting."

Jon's eyebrows shot up. "So do you, Lo," he said, maybe too quickly. He backtracked a beat. "When you opened the door, that was my first thought."

The flush over Lovett's cheeks was the only sign he believed the compliment. "Shut up. You were made for this. I wasn't."

"Looks like the storks thought otherwise."

Lovett opened his mouth to argue but just harrumphed and leaned his head back to close his eyes. Jon settled into the silence, Lilith's steady breath against his neck. After a moment, Lovett spoke. "I've got a crib and some other things scheduled to be delivered this afternoon. You can stay and help me get set up. You owe me a favor anyway."

"Sure, Lovett," he said. "I can do that."

"Text Tommy. He can help too." His voice started to trail off. "Sorry, I'm going to take a nap now." 

Jon smiled and nodded, letting the comfort of the silence overtake him again.

 

This time, Jon answered the door with a baby at his hip. Lilith had woken up with the sound of a car door closing and looked at Jon with wide eyes, her arms around his neck. "Ssh," he said. "It's just Tommy. Don't wake up your dad." She tucked herself back into Jon's neck and he let Tommy in.

"I brought a bunch of stuff. Found a website that had an essentials list." He hefted two bags inside then turned around to get two more. "Wow, that's - actually a baby," he said, standing back.

"She's not going to bite," Jon said.

"Where's Lovett? How's he doing with this?"

"Still passed out on the couch. Figured I'd let him sleep for a while longer."

Tommy nodded and started unloading everything, eyeing Lilith warily as he did so. "So, uh, a stork just dropped her off, just like that? No warning?"

"When is there ever a warning, Tommy?"

He got the baby food in the cupboards, formula lined up on the counter. "No, I know, it's just - I didn't really - I've never seen it happen. I've never met anyone - it's not usual, right? It's not like everyone has babies this way."

Jon actually knew a few people who were gifted babies from the storks. He shrugged. "My neighbor growing up came by stork," he said. "And my college roommate, too. Then there was a couple at my parents' church. It doesn't bother me."

"I never said it bothers me," Tommy said, defensive. "Just that it isn't usual. Besides, Lovett doesn't have a partner."

Jon bristled a little. "Yeah, but - like, he has us. He won't have to do this alone."

"That isn't what I meant either," Tommy argued.

Jon shifted Lilith to his other side. He started formulating the argument in his head, the words on the tip of his tongue, but the doorbell rang again. "That's probably the delivery," he said, heading back to the front door.

Lovett had woken up, a little bleary-eyed. "Sorry," he said, getting to his feel quickly. He held out his arms for the baby.

"I got her," Jon said. "Your delivery's here. I don't know where you want everything."

Lovett nodded a few times, still not fully awake, but he smiled over at Tommy, grateful to see him, then took care of the delivery all the same.

 

Later, once the delivery truck had pulled away, and Tommy and Lovett had put together a crib and high chair and some kind of playpen in the middle of the living room, Jon ordered Postmates.

Lilith was the hungriest of them all, so they fed here while they waited.

"How old do you think she is?" Tommy asked.

Lovett held a spoonful of sweet potato mush at Lilith, who ate it up happily. "No idea. I made an appointment for tomorrow. I guess I'll get all the details then."

"She's at least eating solid foods," Jon pointed out. 

"Solid-ish," Lovett said as a glump dripped down the baby's chin. "And she can talk. At least a little."

"Really?" Jon asked, surprised. "She's been really silent since I've been here. Didn't even cry."

Lovett rolled his eyes. "Seriously. You didn't hear her earlier. Like a tornado siren, I tell you. But, like, of course she's an angel for you." Somewhere behind them, Pundit barked. "Sorry, sorry, you're the only angel around here, Pundit. I'll come up with a different nickname for the baby."

"Have you registered her yet?" Tommy asked.

"I think you do that at the doctor's appointment," Jon said, shrugging. At Lovett's tilted head, he rushed on. "I did some googling when you were asleep."

"There's Jon Favreau for you. Always needs to know all the information about everything."

He blushed and ducked his head away from Lovett's fond look. 

Lilith put her hands together and clapped. "Dada!" She giggled, pointing at Jon and clapping again.

"Uh, no, he's your dad, not me." Jon's eyes widened, and he looked, slightly panicked, at Lovett and Tommy. "Shit, do they, like, imprint or something?"

Lilith looked at Lovett, who was frowning. "Papa," she said with a firm jut of her jaw and a pop of the P's.

Jon relaxed. "Right. Lovett's your dad. That's right."

"Papa," she repeated, pointing at Lovett. Her hand flapped back to Jon. "Dada."

"Those are, uh, two distinct words," Tommy said, loudly. "There something the two of you aren't telling me?" 

Jon choked on nothing. "No," he said. 

Lovett practically squeaked out the word, "What?"

Tommy smiled. "I'm kidding. God, relax. She probably just got confused because you've been with her all day." Someone knocked at the door. "That's dinner. I'll get it."

As soon as he was gone, Jon looked at Lovett, who had gone uncharacteristically quiet, concentrating only on feeding Lilith. "Lovett," Jon said urgently.

"We don't have to talk about it," he said flatly. "We haven't before and we don't have to now."

"There wasn't a baby before," Jon said, keeping his voice low.

"Not now," Lovett snapped, just as Tommy came back in with the food. 

"Hope everyone's hungry," Tommy said.

"Famished," Lovett said, reaching out for one of the bags.

 

"I think we're going to have to give her a bath," Lovett said, after dinner, after Tommy had left, while Jon was still hovering around like he wasn't sure if he ought to stay or go. "She's gone to the bathroom like four times and I don't think you got all the food off her when you cleaned her up after dinner."

Jon stood beside him, shoulder to shoulder, arms crossed, and they looked down at Lilith. She was in her playpen ("The correct term is Pack and Play," Tommy said. "What? I saw it on the box.") poking at a stuffed bear Tommy had included in his purchases. "You're the one who fed her."

Lovett shrugged. Neither of them made a move to get her though. 

"Hey, she's your daughter. You do it." But Jon's logic didn't feel very strong or well-founded, and Lovett huffed. 

"Yeah, okay, fine." He strode forward and plucked Lilith up into his arms. "Can you - I don't know - clean up in here or something, before you go?" He had disappeared down the hall with the baby before Jon could ask if Lovett really wanted him to leave or if it maybe was okay that he didn't go anywhere at all. They still needed to talk, whether Lovett wanted to or not. 

Jon busied himself tidying up, cleaned the dishes, organized the playpen - the Pack and Play. He flicked through his phone, realized he hadn't looked at Twitter in hours. Then he realized he didn't want to and instead started adding things to his amazon shopping cart. Toys, pajamas with little blue donkeys on them, an adorable purple dress that caught his eye, and finally a goldendoodle stuffed animal so Lilith could get used to Pundit (and Leo). He ordered it all and set it to be shipped here, to Lovett's, before he left to go home and get Leo and an overnight bag.

 

Bathing Lilith was easier than Lovett expected. She took to the water happily, laughing and splashing. There was more water that she splashed out of the tub than stayed in, but that was a problem for future Lovett. Present Lovett was too busy enjoying Lilith's enjoyment. He used the baby soap Tommy brought and his softest washcloth and it wasn't until her little finger pads started to prune and her lips trembled a little that he gathered her up and out. 

"All right, Lils," he said, trying to stop her fussing as he wrapped her in a big fluffy towel and dried her off. "You little fish. We'll have another bath tomorrow. Right now, it's bedtime. How about we make a deal and you keep being a perfect baby and sleep all night, huh? What do you think about that?"

He kept talking as he got a diaper on (he had to do it twice after putting it on backwards the first time) and get her into a onesie. "Maybe you'll let me get some sleep and then tomorrow we'll figure out what's going on, okay?"

Lilith's eyes followed him as he talked, and she gave a very big yawn as he set her down in the crib. "Papa," she said, swiping a fist at him. 

He bent down to kiss the top of her head. "Good night, Lilith," he said. He backed away slowly, reaching for the light, holding his breath. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. She looked tired. She'd just fall asleep, right? Isn't that how this worked?

Before he could leave, Lilith whimpered. Then she whined. Then came a cry. "No, no it's - you're okay, Lils, everything is okay." He rushed over to her, tried to decide if he should pick her up or let her cry it out. 

In between the wet sobs, Lovett could make out that she was saying the other of the only two words she knew - _Dada_.

They were going to have to talk about it. This thing that Lovett had pushed to the far recesses of his mind, refusing to acknowledge that anything happened. 

Because now - now he had a screaming child whose screams were pretty precisely directed toward her - _for_ her other dad. "Right, well, stay here and I'll go -" He started for the door. 

No, he couldn't just leave a baby screaming alone in her crib while he ran across the street to beg Jon to come back. Of course he couldn't.

Lovett turned on his heel and crossed the room to scoop Lilith back into his arms. "You're fine," he said as she screamed into his ear and clung to him. "We're going, it's fine. We'll get Jon." He hurried down the hall, a flutter of hope that maybe Jon hadn't left yet, but he found the living room empty save for Pundit, head on her paws, in the middle of the room. He didn't have shoes on, couldn't take the baby across the street barefoot, shouldn't - he spotted his phone on the counter, hadn't touched it in hours, his poor mentions - and lunged for it. At least he had years of practice with one-handed texting under his belt, so he should be an expert at texting while holding a baby, but he hadn't taken into consideration the wiggling and the screaming.

"Shit," he breathed out as he almost dropped the phone (not the baby, thank god). He bounced Lilith, managed to get the phone screen unlocked, and then Pundit got up and barked a moment before the front door opened and Leo rushed in to tangle with his sister.

"What's wrong?" Jon asked, dropping a duffel bag and closing the door. "I could hear her screaming from the street."

Lovett blinked at Jon, at Leo, at the duffel bag at his feet. Lilith realized who was speaking and started to quiet. Instead of the shrill cries, she was hiccuping and gasping. Her face red, wet, sticky. "She wants you," he grumbled, holding the baby out to Jon.

"Dada," she gasped. 

Jon looked more than a little embarrassed and a lot sorry as he took her from Lovett. "All right, I just went to get some clothes and Leo. I'm right here." He pressed his mouth and nose into the mess of short dark curls on her head.

Lilith twisted in his arms to look at Lovett too, back and forth between them both. "Dada. Papa."

"Yeah, kid," Lovett said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "We're both here."

 

When Lilith had been down for at least fifteen minutes without fussing, Lovett called it a win. "I need a drink," he announced, throwing himself onto the couch and looking expectantly at Jon.

He laughed. "Beer or something stronger?"

"Surprise me," Lovett said, knowing that he really had nothing in the house that he wouldn't like so it wouldn't really be any kind of surprise. Sure enough, when Jon handled him a glass a minute later, it was a vodka soda. He sat next to Lovett with a glass of his own. He didn't say anything. Neither did Lovett, not until he'd downed half of his vodka soda much too quickly. "Jon -"

Jon turned his whole body toward him, eagerly. "Yeah?"

Lovett wanted to make a joke about this whole thing, chalk everything up to - what? some kind of mistake? - but it felt stale on his tongue. 

"I'd like to go with you to the appointment tomorrow," Jon said when Lovett didn't continue.

"Yeah," he said. "Sure. I mean, you should be there, probably."

"Lovett," Jon said quietly, leaning forward. "We need to talk about it."

Lovett bit back a laugh, his hand tightening around his glass. "Talk about what? That we got drunk and I gay chickened you to kiss me and you did because you're a good friend, Favreau, and then were too drunk to not let me take advantage of this straight boy crush I've had on you for a decade? No thank you, definitely don't want to talk about _that_."

Jon just looked at him, a flush along his cheek, down the side of his neck, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. "Is that - is that what you think happened?"

"It _is_ what happened. There's no other way to explain it but that."

Jon turned away from him, set his drink down and leaned back against the couch. He passed a hand over his face and groaned.

"Oh shit," Lovett said suddenly. "Fuck, did you - you weren't that drunk, to not remember -"

"I remember, Lovett," Jon said, his voice almost snappish. Definitely tired. Somewhat frustrated. "I wasn't - you weren't - I thought we were _flirting_. I thought hooking up was the next step - maybe we both just needed the drinks to get there but there were no gay chickens involved. I'm not - and then you just pretended that nothing happened, so I got the message, loud and clear." 

"You pretended nothing happened," Lovett burst out with. "You did! Because you're - I always flirt with you and you never -"

"Lovett - _Jon_." Jon looked a mix between he was about to be sick and he was as excited as a kid on his birthday. "I love you."

Lovett laughed, just a little, then drank the rest of his vodka soda in quick gulps, throat working. "Sure, I love you too, _bro_."

"No," Jon said, his hand coming down on Lovett's leg, above the knee, hot against his thigh. "Not - bro, Lovett. I love you. And I want you. More than a friend. It wasn't gay chicken because I already wanted you. I just needed a push and - look, just tell me if it's a no, okay? I can handle that. But you need to tell me and not just - fuck, assume, or, like, say you don't want to talk about it, okay?"

Lovett looked down at Jon's hand like it was burning him. The tips of his ears were pink. "You better not be saying this," he said in a rush, "just because there's a little girl asleep in there who's insisting on calling you dada for I don't even know what reason -"

Jon cut him off. "No, I mean, okay, that - helps. The storks don't make mistakes, Lovett, and yeah maybe this is a ridiculous way of getting us to talk about it but - I want this. You. Lilith. Us. All of it. All of us."

Lovett, who had something to say in every situation, said nothing. He was quiet for long enough that Jon pulled his hand away and made to stand up. 

"Right, well, I'm here to help with Lilith. Anything you - or she - needs."

"Jon -" Lovett managed sounding choked. "I never thought -"

A smile broke out across Jon's face and he sat back down, a palm to Lovett's jaw. "I know. Me too."

Lovett thought he probably couldn't take another minute without Jon's mouth against his, and he lunged forward to mash their lips together, gasping when Jon took control, tipped his face up, opened his mouth, demanded entry. Lovett matched him, got his hand in-between them, fingers curling into Jon's t-shirt. 

The last time they did this, Lovett was too drunk to really enjoy it. Oh, he had liked it, a lot, growing embarrassingly hard against Jon's thigh, coming too quickly once Jon's hand got into his pants. But he hadn't thought about it; it had just happened. Not like what he was doing now, tasting lemon on Jon's lips, the harshness of the vodka. Feeling his heart pound beneath his fist, hearing the stuttered gasps and moans Jon made into the kiss.

Lovett pulled back, overwhelmed. He tipped his forehead against Jon's to catch his breath. Jon's fingers tangled in his hair. His chest heaved. "So are we doing this then?" he asked, swallowing.

"Yeah," Lovett said. "Fuck, yes, let's - see what happens." 

"Good," Jon murmured, kissing the corner of Lovett's mouth, his jaw, his throat. " _Good_."

 

*

Lovett walked into the kitchen, his pink party hat perched sideways on his head, the string digging into his chin. "I think it's cake time," he announced, even though Jon had already unboxed the cake and was fumbling to find matches in one of the drawers. "Aren't you glad I convinced you to buy one instead of baking it yourself," he said, picking up the pink candles and arranging them along the side of the unicorn's horn. "Imagine how stressed you'd have been all morning."

"Yeah, yeah," Jon said, leaning in to press a kiss to Lovett's temple as he stepped around him. "You always know best."

"Yes, I do. I'm glad you're finally admitting it."

Jon's fingers pressed against Lovett's lower back and laughed. "You'll never hear it from me again." He handed Lovett the box of matched. "Did you gather up all the kids so they can sing?"

"Nope," Lovett said. "That's your job. I ordered the cake, I get to deliver the cake."

Jon threw his hands up, just a bit. "I don't know why I even try," he teased. 

Lovett tipped his face up expectantly, accepted Jon's easy kiss. "I don't know why you do either," he said against his mouth. He gave Jon's hip a squeeze. "Go, I'll be right out with the cake."

It never got old, being on the receiving end of one of Jon Favreau's very fond smiles. Lovett ducked his head, muttered something useless to himself once Jon had left, then turned his attention back to the cake. 

He couldn't believe, as he struck the match to light the candles he'd arranged, that it had been nearly four years since Lilith showed up on his patio, the same length of time since he and Jon had officially been together. Well, not legally, but -

The ring Lovett had been carrying around for almost a month in his pocket practically pulsed against his thigh. Their daughter's birthday party was probably not the best time for a proposal, but Lovett needed to stop waiting for the 'best time,' the best moment.

In the last four years, they hadn't really ever talked about it. They lived together, bought a house a few minutes away from their old neighborhood - one with a pool and a small backyard - together, had a daughter together. But marriage hadn't come up.

Lovett wanted marriage to come up. He never imagined this for himself - marriage, kids, _Jon_. But that didn't mean he didn't _want_ it.

He wanted it, and if Jon Lovett was good at anything, it was finding a way to get what he wanted, make it a reality. He had nearly everything he wanted, right now; he just needed to put a ring on it.

 

Jon herded the dozen kindergarteners in the backyard onto the patio, gathered around the picnic table where Lilith was holding court, not unlike Lovett did at parties like this. "Hey Lils, can you take a break?" he asked, only after she finished the punchline of her joke and enjoyed the tittering of her friends. "I think it's time for cake."

At the "c" word, all of the kids gave a cheer, and Lilith hopped down off the bench and skipped over to throw her arms around Jon. "Did papa get me a unicorn cake like I wanted?"

"Well, you'll just have to wait and see, hmn?" He bent down and kissed the top of her head. "Come on, let's go. Everyone to the table and get ready to sing." Jon spotted Lovett coming out of the house, cake in front of him, candles lit up, out of the corner of his eye. 

It took a little effort, but all of the kids managed to crowd in around Lilith, whose dark eyes lit up when Lovett set the cake in front of her. She clapped and looked from Jon to Lovett with an expression of utter love and devotion. "It's so awesome!" She preened a little and sat up as everyone sang to her and then she puffed up her cheeks and blew out the candles in one big breath.

"I wanna cut it!" Lilith exclaimed, making grabby hands at Lovett.

"Oh I don't think so," Jon started to say, but Lovett gave him a look and moved behind her to hand her the knife. "Lo -" Another look and Jon realized that Lovett had this handled as he wrapped his hand around both of their daughter's and helped her cut the first slice of cake - her slice - a heaping big piece that was sure to mean she was going to be up forever and then crash in an instant. 

Jon smiled, losing himself in the moment as he watched Lilith dig in, pink and purple frosting on her cheek, her chin, watched Lovett cut up the cake and pass it around. He glanced up at Jon with a smile of his own, one just for Jon.

Jon felt his insides go mushy, a symptom of Lovett's smile, Lovett in his life like this every day, Lovett loving him. Really, if Lovett knew how far gone Jone was, how often these kind of thoughts consumed his every moment, he might run screaming in the other direction.

Well, not really, but Jon knew better than to say everything he was thinking all of the time. Even if he was flooded with it and had been for the last four years. His heart and life were fit to burst, and still he wanted more.

 

"'m not tired," Lilith moaned, the words lost into a great big yawn that made Jon chuckle.

"Oh I think you are, princess," he said, tugging her quilt up to her chest and kissing her forehead. "You had a very big day today. Happy birthday."

"Night, daddy." Her eyes slipped closed despite her obvious and best efforts to stay awake. She yawned again and turned her cheek into her pillow.

Jon lingered for a moment longer, always in awe of this little human relying on and loving him and Lovett. He could probably stay there watching her sleep forever, but he knew Lovett would never let him hear the end of it if he didn't do his part in cleaning up from the party.

Lovett sat on the couch, legs tucked under himself, scrolling through photos on his phone. Around him, everything was mostly tidied up. He didn't look up when Jon walked in. "I left you the dishes."

Jon sank onto the couch and nudged Lovett to lean sideways against him, cheeked tucked against Jon's chest. "Sure," he said. "I'll get them." His fingers slipped up against the curls above Lovett's ear. He pressed his mouth there too, closed his eyes to breathe him in.

Lovett sat up abruptly, turned his whole body toward Jon. "Hey," he said, tugging at Jon's hand until he could lace their fingers together. "It was a good party, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Jon said, hesitating. "But -?"

Lovett shook his head. "Nothing." He leaned in and kissed Jon, hand on his shoulder. 

It was a slow kiss, the kind that built up into something more, something they probably should go to the bedroom for instead of making out on the couch like they were decades younger. Jon moved his hands to Lovett's back, fingers under the hem of his shirt, touching bare skin. He hummed as Lovett opened up the kiss and pressed in against him.

Lovett pulled back. "Jon," he said, urgency lacing his tone. "I -"

Jon's fingers stroked up and down the base of his spine, skin hot to the touch. He put his mouth to Lovett's jaw, let his teeth graze lightly.

"Jon, stop, I - can't think when you -"

His mouth opened against Lovett's Adam's apple just before he groaned, opened a palm against Jon's chest and pushed lightly. Jon lifted his head, concerned now. He touched Lovett's cheek, brushed his knuckles over his jaw. 

"Wait, just -" Lovett untangled himself from Jon, his phone sliding with a thud to the floor. Lovett followed, sinking to his knees. 

" _Jon_." Jon's thighs parted on instinct, his breath catching. "Should we - go to the bedroom?" Jon asked, voice tight. He reached out, his fingers against Lovett's cheek.

"Wait, I'm trying to -" Lovett fumbled with something in his pocket, biting down at the corner of his mouth, Jon watching him intently. It wasn't like Lovett to struggle with his words. Jon let his hands slide down Lovett's arms, reminding himself to be patient, to let Lovett get out what he needed to say, even as Jon worried about it now. 

"Jon," Lovett said again, drawing his attention, meeting his gaze. "I love you," he said, simple as anything.

Jon tended to say it more often than Lovett did, so he never tired of hearing the words come out of Lovett's mouth. He gasped out around a smile, his eyes crinkling. "I love you, too."

Lovett's fingers curled and flexed against Jon's chest as he thumbed the collar of his shirt. "I love you, and Lils, and everything we have together. I love waking up with you, arguing with you over who's going to pack Lilith's lunch, watching you come in all sweaty and glowing from jogging with the dogs. I love sharing an office with you, watching how red your face gets when I make a suggestive comment during an ad read. I love kissing you, having your hands on me, going to bed with you."

Jon felt himself flush, a full body flush, his stomach flutter, his dick twitch beneath the zipper of his jeans. God, Lovett was -

"It's just - not enough -" Lovett continued, an odd strain to his voice, like he was choking the words out.

A breath surged out of Jon immediately, but before he could ask, before he could really panic, Lovett caught his hand, opened his palm, and dropped into it a simple gold band. "Will you marry me?"

Jon heard the words. He did. He acknowledged that Lovett had asked him a question with a jerk of his chin, eyes wide. But what that question was, Jon had no idea. He just stared at the ring in his palm like he'd never seen something like that before in his life.

The smug grin on Lovett's face, the twinkle in his eyes, grew wary. "Jon?"

Jon blinked, his mouth open, then he laughed, a nervous bubble that startled them both. "Yes," he said. "Fuck - yes, obviously, I - _yes_."

Lovett actually rolled his eyes, a cover for releasing a tightly-held breath. "God, Jon, don't do that to me." The shaking of his hand as he hurried to push the ring onto Jon's finger, squeezing their hands together, betrayed his nerves. 

Jon cupped face, smiling so widely his own cheeks hurt. Lovett looked a little watery back at him. "Yes," Jon said again. 

He held his gaze a moment too long, and Lovett huffed. "Stop looking at me like that and just kiss me already."

Jon wanted to keep looking at Lovett forever. But he also wanted to kiss Lovett. For the rest of their lives, even. "Yeah, yeah, I'm getting there," he muttered, the final words lost as Lovett took matters into his own hands, pressed forward, and kissed him.

 

While they were lost together, tangled up on the couch, neither Jon nor Lovett noticed the flash of white in the moonlight outside the back window. They didn't hear the stork's large wings beating as it landed on the patio, another basket hanging from its beak, waiting.


End file.
